


Somewhere around the winter

by lwtmehome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:05:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwtmehome/pseuds/lwtmehome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thinks about the break and thinks life isn't fair. At least Louis is there in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere around the winter

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I scribbled down a little after the break started. Just felt like posting it, even though it's short.

_These nights were the hardest. These were the nights Harry had to step in to the empty hotel room with his eyes dropping, but his mind fully awake.  
He had to take off his clothes, shower and slide in between the sheets; alone. _

Harry rubbed his eyes as he finally pushed the door closed. A long sigh escaped his lips as he took a few dragging steps towards the bed. He briefly considered lying down for a bit, but it usually ended up with him falling asleep with his day clothes on, and then they’d get all wrinkled.   
He slowly started to undress himself, taking off his boots and his loose button up. He folded the floral patterned shirt nicely, before placing it in the suitcase. Harry’s arms were shaking a little as he pulled down his tight blacks skinny jeans. 

A soft chuckle left his lips as he thought about Louis telling him ”well that’s how it is curly, when you wear girl’s clothes”.  
He makes his way to shower with half-lidded eyes, and he wonders how can his mind be so awake but his body so asleep. 

The water is cold pouring on his stiff shoulders; Harry doesn’t wash with warm water, it destroys your pores.

He lets the water wash away the make-up that has by now stuck as smudgy paste on his face, and lets it wet his thick brown curls, making them heavy.  
Harry misses Louis’ hands massaging his scalp, relaxing him after a long day. He misses Louis’ low whispers of sweet words, and Louis’ gentle breath on his neck and Harry misses Louis’ stubble tickling on his shoulder. 

But this isn’t one of those nights. 

Harry opens his eyes and rubs some soap on his milky skin, deciding that dwelling on his thoughts in the shower has never ended in his win.  
So, he washes himself routinely, before stepping out of the cubicle. With a soft towel wrapped around his hips, Harry walks out of the bathroom, falling on the bed. He blinks a couple of times, letting the dark room comfort him.

It’s silent and Harry’s mind can’t seem to rest. It hasn’t rested properly in years, but maybe that’s just a part of the job.  
Harry can’t wait for the break, he honestly can’t. And he’d really say it out loud in the interviews too, but Modest thinks it’s better if Harry doesn’t go around telling people how exhausted he really is. It’s a little silly, in Harry’s opinion, because he’d always thought the red in his eyes and the creases on his forehead when he was about to nod off in an interview could be seen from miles away. The crew knows about his tiredness, though. And to Harry, that’s enough. He is pretty sure most of the fans can see through his act, but it really doesn’t matter.

The break was something he was eagerly waiting for several reasons. He’s still waiting for it, something just got taken away, plans got cancelled and new ones were made, as usual. 

Harry should be used to it by now, he knows that. But he’s just that kind of a person. He can’t let the hope inside die, not even when he’s pretty sure it’s just going to come back and bite him in the ass.

Harry rolls onto his stomach, letting his still wet hair drip droplets of water on the white sheets. There’s a crack between the curtains, letting the city light illuminate the carpeted floor. Harry hates hotel room floors. He hates fitted carpets, they’re obnoxious. 

It’s way past 2a.m. now but Harry can’t sleep. He wonders why is life so hard, why is Louis out with some girl, and he’s lying here, in their bed, alone. If Harry was a little bit more bitter of a person, he'd probably hate on Simon or the universe, which ever works better, but he's not. He's tired of being bitter, just like everyone else.

The lights are pretty, Harry thinks as he crawls further into the bed, lying down on his own side of it. He faces the window, but closes his eyes, despite those pretty lights.

They were supposed to come out.

It’s the thought that has been revolving around his head for some weeks now. Louis’ really a sweetheart, he keeps asking Harry whether Harry’s okay, if Harry wants to cause a fuss. But Harry doesn’t.

He’s not sure what he wants. He was so excited to finally come out, finally telling everyone that yes, Louis is his and he’s Louis’, and that yes, he’s been forced into the closet since day one. And he was so ready for it, Louis was too. Liam and Niall had given their OK's and it was settled. 

But it had felt scary at the same time. He'd gotten used to hiding and avoiding certain questions, they all had. It had felt a little absurd, the idea of being able to say it out loud, to admit it. 

And then he thought about the fans.

Not the open minded ones, but the ones that are too young to understand or just simply too much in love with the idea of them. Harry loves their fans. _But Harry’s in love with Louis._ The difference doesn’t seem to be that clear to everyone, and it hurts. Because Harry doesn’t want to let anybody down, he doesn’t want for anybody to hurt.  
But now it’s him and Louis hurting. 

Shuffling from the door makes Harry open his eyes. The soft click of a closing door indicates that Louis is back.  
For the briefest of the moments Harry considers closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep, but as soon as Louis’ slightly high pitched voice cuts the air, he turns around.

”Hi Haz.”  
”Hi.”

Louis kicks his shoes off and drops his jacket on the floor. Harry would nag about it, but suddenly the urge of being held by Louis is way too consuming. 

”Your hair ’s making the pillow wet. Didn’t dry ’em?" Louis is speaking quietly as he takes of his jeans and t-shirt.

”I’ll shower tomorrow,” Louis speaks again as he lifts the sheets to lie down.

”Harry. You still have your towel on.”

Harry looks down and notices that Louis is indeed right. He hadn’t changed into his briefs yet. He lifts himself up, but Louis is faster to leave the bed and pick up a fresh pair of black boxer briefs from Harry’s suitcase. He throws them to Harry, who just gets rid of the towel and pulls on the piece of clothing. Then they both dive under the blanket.   
Louis pulls Harry closer, so Harry is lying in his arms. 

Louis smells like cigarettes and a tinge of beer, but it feels familiar, and Harry is still able to find Louis' natural scent underneath it all. The older one is playing with Harry’s wet curls, as Harry is tracing his fingers on his tattoos. 

”What’s on your mind, angel?” Louis whispers. 

It’s comforting and it feels like home.

”Us. The break,” Harry answers truthfully, looking up at his lover.

”Still sad?” Louis asks, giving a small peck to Harry’s forehead.

”I never said I was sad,” Harry points out, frowning.

”I know you darling. You’ve been sad,” Louis shrugs like it’s no big deal. 

But Harry also knows Louis.

”You’re worried,” Harry says, furrowing his brows deeper. 

”Never said that,” Louis’ voice is playful around the words and he’s smiling a little. 

This makes Harry smile too.

It’s quiet for a while. Harry’s listening to Louis’ heart beat and Louis is combing through Harry’s locks. It’s nice and comfortable. 

”I could complain about everything and nothing. But I’d rather just kiss you and cuddle,” Harry admits, smiling against Louis’ chest. 

”Let’s kiss and cuddle then. I missed you,” Louis coos, tilting Harry’s chin up, placing a short but endearing kiss on the younger’s lips.

”Did you miss me baby?” 

Harry nods, giving Louis one of his dimpled smiles, then kissing him deeper, capturing the older’s bottom lip between his own lips. Louis moans quietly, wrapping his hands around Harry’s waist.

”I love you,” Harry says against Louis’ lips with a breathy voice.

”I love you too,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s soft lips, his voice disappearing somewhere inside Harry’s mouth.


End file.
